


Delictum

by shominazukis



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: AU, Crimes & Criminals, Detective AU, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/F Sexual Content, F/M, Graphic Violence, Murder Mystery, Serial Killers, Yuri, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:10:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2096985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shominazukis/pseuds/shominazukis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sayaka Miki and Kyoko Sakura, two of the best detectives in the city, are assigned to a case of serial killings. They have no idea just how tangled this case would become.<br/>(Rated M for graphic violence, language, and explicit sexual content in future chapters. Please don't ignore the tags! This work has potential triggers!!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Murder

**Author's Note:**

> All characters here are depicted of age, with the exception of Nagisa, who is sixteen. Hope this doesn't end up being a goliath fic with a ton of chapters.

[September 3rd, 3:59 PM]

Homura Akemi stared at the cold, lifeless body lying before her. She dropped the bat at her feet, backing up slowly, taking in the full view of the corpse. The girl at her feet was very young, and very small, Homura noticed; Probably ninety pounds soaking wet and just a little under five feet. She bent down and opened the girl’s purse unceremoniously, wrapping her fingers around a pink faux-leather wallet. She pulled a small plastic card from the wallet and inspected it closely.

“Nagisa Momoe,” she read out loud, even though there was no one present to hear her. She continued reading. “Age sixteen,” she sighed under her breath, tossing the card to her side. She walked back towards the white-haired girl collapsed on the wooden floorboards. They start young, she thought.

The dead girl’s face was empty of any expression. It was the sort of expression, or lack thereof, that would normally make someone feel remorse for what they’d done, but this was not a normal situation. It’s not that Homura didn’t care that Nagisa was killed by her hands, that the curled up figure on her living room floor was that of a sixteen year old girl, but it was with cruel certainty, that Homura thought, that there are many things that need to be done, no matter how senseless. The ends justify the means.

She grasped the girl’s hand gently, stopping only for a moment to run her fingers softly over the smooth flesh. The skin was still warm, but it was losing heat quickly. She walked with purpose towards the cabinet where she kept her cleaning supplies and pulled out a rag and a large bottle of bleach. She reached into the farthest part of the cabinet, almost out of reach for someone even at her height, and pulled out a small pistol wrapped in a cloth. She had about three and a half hours until the sun set, and a lot of work to do.

\---

[September 4th, 1:33 AM]

The rubble streets cracked under the soles of Kyoko Sakura's heeled black shoes as she exited her car, dipping her now soaking wet feet into a puddle underneath the door. Oh, fucking _fantastic_. Why the hell was she even here this early in the goddamn morning?There were already officers everywhere circling the scene of the crime, which had been enveloped in yellow barricade tape. Her heels clicked against the gravel as she strode towards her lesser associates. It was hard to tell in the pouring rain, but it looked like her partner was already at the scene. Ah, yes, her consort, the insufferable Sayaka Miki. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”  
“Good morning to you, too,” Sayaka retorted, looking up from her phone and grimacing.

“Don’t be coy, it ain’t even morning yet,” 

Kyoko grabbed the underside of the crime scene tape and pulled it over her head, crouching slightly in the process. She didn’t bother holding it for her partner. She walked over towards the focal point of the crime scene. The sight of the dead body nauseated her considerably, she never quite got used to seeing one on the job. She bent down next to the victim and examined her considerably. She was young, very young, early teens maybe. She had long, white hair, tangled and stained with blood. The thing that stood out the most, though, were the three bullet wounds in her chest and one straight in her eye. She had seen this before, on the last girl.

“So, you noticed it too, huh?” Sayaka mumbled, letting out a large sigh. “It’s obvious that this is the same killer as the last three victims. Why would they leave such an obvious signature? It’s almost as if the killer _wants_ us to try and catch them, as if it’s a game to them.”

“I don’t know, but we sure as hell aren’t waiting to find out if the next victim shows up.” Kyoko waved Sayaka off, a cue to go and bring in forensics. Something wasn’t sitting right with Kyoko. None of the previous victims had anything in common, at all. The killer had been so random in their murders that it was nearly impossible to find any kind of possible motive that didn’t sound batshit insane. She was kind of hoping, even, that another victim would show up with more obvious links to the killer. Yet no dice. 

The only thing the four victims had in common were the bullet wounds: three in the chest, one in the eye. Of course, there were signs of struggle on the past three victims, as well. The third victim, a middle-aged woman, had deep bruises on her throat, doubled with torn vocal chords and damage to the larynx. It was almost certain that she was strangled to death. Yet, somehow the four bullet wounds remained. It wasn’t part of the killer’s MO, it was an afterthought, a _signature_. It was a way for the killer to say _“I did this, try and find me.”_

That’s what pissed Kyoko off the most. She hated cases like this. Bumbling murderers were fine. They’d kill one person, have no idea what they were doing, and left all the evidence in the world. Easy. She could go home and sleep at night knowing that the murderer was caught. But this one was smart. They didn’t leave any traces of blood, skin cells, a fingerprint, damn, they didn’t leave _anything_. Kyoko knew it would be a while before the killer was caught. More sleepless nights, staying up knowing that the killer is out there, probably killing again.

She would catch the killer, definitely. Then she could get a good night’s sleep again.


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayaka has an unexpected guest, a bringer of bad news.

[September 4th, 7:01 AM]

Sayaka groaned quietly, tugging on her freshly-cut hair with considerable force. She rested her elbows on the table in front of her, her fingers still tangled in her blue locks.

“Something to say, Miki?” Kyoko gave a toothy grin from across the meeting room table. She stuck her tongue out towards her and wiggled it obnoxiously. “What, cat got your tongue?”

“Don’t call me that,” Sayaka mumbled. She didn’t want to be here at all. Especially not with her crude, reckless _“partner”_. Though she’s not even sure if she could call her that. Acquaintances, maybe, at most. They worked together. Other than the relationship they had maintained in the _wonderful_ world of law enforcement, they had never bothered to pursue any kind of friendship outside of that. She could say, though, that when they got their hands on a really good case, one that really peaked her interest, they could put aside their differences for the duration of the case. Sayaka had to give Kyoko some credit. She may be socially inept, but she was damn good at her job. Sayaka had worked really hard to make it this far. She was glad to be paired up with someone who at least knew what she was doing.

“Excuse me, but would you two please stop arguing?” One of their co-workers said, massaging his temples. His hair was messy and his suit disheveled. Sayaka had never bothered to learn his name. “This isn’t high school. Can we focus on the case?”

“Of course,” Sayaka sighed. It was too early for this. She hadn’t slept in at least forty-eight hours. Long days were something that she should’ve been used to by now, being an investigator for a while now, but human beings really weren’t meant to function on coffee alone. The disheveled man was about to speak again when a buzzing noise echoed through the room.

“Sayaka, we need you in the interrogation room,” a muffled voice spoke through the intercom in the center of the table. Saved by the bell, or buzzer, rather.

“I’m on my way,” she smirked slyly at her younger co-worker. “If you’ll excuse me.”

\---

[September 4th, 7:13 AM]

Homura’s eyelids fluttered open lazily. Blinding sunlight poured in through the small window in her bedroom, lighting up her plain white room with yellow hues. Yawning, she stretched, connecting her hands above her head, letting the cool morning air brush against her exposed skin. She lived alone, so she never worried about someone walking in on her in just her underwear. Especially not while she was sleeping. Well, maybe one person. But she wouldn’t have to worry about that any time soon.

She laid back down on her mattress, veiled slightly by a thin, purple fitting sheet, resting her head against her hard, worn-out pillow. The pillowcase had been greatly abused over the years, surviving several moves and relocations. She’d always kept it, though, for whatever reason. It had been in her life for so long that she would feel weird getting rid of it. Not sad, just _weird_. She wasn’t ready to be sentimental over a pillowcase of all things. She had bigger fish to fry.

She grabbed her glasses from the floor, blowing the dust off the lenses and shakily put them on. Within minutes she was in her kitchenette preparing her morning tea. Black, of course. The groggy, morning feeling looming over her subsided as the kettle started whistling. She poured the steaming hot water over the teabag in slow circles, filling her ceramic mug to the brim. She stood alone in her kitchen, bare feet cold against the cement floor of her studio apartment. The cold, autumn air seeping in through her windows was harsh against her skin. She’d never liked this apartment. It was cold and cramped. Lonely, even. But it would have to do for now, she thought. She had a plan that needed to be carried out, no matter what. If it meant that she had to stay in a crappy one-room mansion, so be it. She took a sip from her tea. The hot water warmed her body, a comforting feeling. The tea left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, lingering on her tongue.

Disgusting, she thought, as she continued to drink on.

\---

[September 4th, 7:15 AM]

Sayaka tapped her fingers against the interrogation room table. How long were they going to make her wait? She had work to do. It was bad enough that the meeting had cut into her break, what little free time she had. She took a swig of coffee from her travel mug. She was almost out again, she thought. She’d have to refill soon.

The door clicked as it was unlocked from the outside, an officer entering the room with someone behind her. Sayaka involuntarily spewed out her coffee at the sight of the young woman that was brought in, throwing herself into a coffee fit. Bright green hair stained her vision.

“Hello, Sayaka,” Hitomi said as she pulled a chair out from underneath the table, sitting directly opposed to Sayaka. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” _Calm down,_ Sayaka thought to herself. _You’re an adult, handle this situation maturely._

“Well!” Sayaka laughed out loud, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s certainly been a few years since high school, that’s for sure.” Real mature, she thought.

“Very true. It’s good to see that you’ve followed your dream, becoming a detective and all. I remember us playing cops and robbers as kids, running around the schoolyard tripping over our own two feet!” Hitomi giggled, covering her mouth delicately with her hand.

“Yeah, that’s right…” Sayaka trailed off. “How’s your husband doing?”

“Kyousuke is just fine.”

“And the kids?”

“Very well! Our oldest is starting the first grade this year.” Sayaka sighed. Had it really been that long?

“That’s good to hear!” Sayaka laughed loudly while bringing her arm down onto the table unceremoniously, nearly knocking over her coffee again. Why was she still so uncomfortable around Hitomi? It had been years since she’d had her puppy-love crush on Kyousuke. Why was it still making her feel unsettled? “Anyway, what brings you here today?”

“I’m here to file a missing persons report,” Hitomi said, a serious tone suddenly slinking its way into her voice.

“I’m afraid they’ve brought you to the wrong place,” Sayaka said, reaching towards the small intercom button on the table. “That isn’t really my division, but I can direct you to the office that-”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I need you to look into this. It concerns you,” Hitomi’s eyebrows furrowed as she dug through her purse, pulling out a small, crumpled photograph. She laid it on the table, rubbing her hands over it fiercely to remove the wrinkles. She then picked up the photograph and handed it to Sayaka, the confused look on her face evolving into shock.

The photograph was a portrait, a picture of a young woman. Her eyes had a brilliant shine to them which matched her glowing smile perfectly. Her aura was kind, serene, honest; the rarest type of person. She’d only ever met one girl like this in her lifetime. She was older in the photograph than in Sayaka’s memory, but she was still recognizable. Her pink hair flowed freely over her shoulders, a single red ribbon tied in a bow on the side of her head.

“Madoka,” Sayaka whispered, her voice barely audible. She cleared her throat. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Hitomi shook her head, “that’s why I needed to find you. When I heard that you were one of the head officers here, I knew that you could help, that you could at least do something. We may have lost touch when we graduated, but that doesn’t change the fact that we were all close friends at one point in time.”

Sayaka examined the photograph closely. If Madoka had really gone missing... Then yes, she had made her decision. She had to pursue her. It was her duty, as an officer, but also as a friend.

“Tell me everything you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watch too many crime shows, and I don't have all that much of an idea how things go down at actual, real police stations. Please forgive me.


End file.
